


Busy Mind

by MissShellfishBeach



Category: Frank Iero - Fandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Avoidant Personality Disorder, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Depression, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, Ghost Frank Iero, Past Drug Addiction, Past Sexual Abuse, Self-Harm, a lot of crying, bullied, ghost - Freeform, hella sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissShellfishBeach/pseuds/MissShellfishBeach
Summary: After taking his own life at the age of 35, Frank Iero finds that he can view people's memories as if they were a film. He's learned so much about so many people without them knowing of his presence, he's seen the tragic stories of many's lives. Probing their minds is what he does best. But when a certain girl moves into his old apartment, things might change. His ghostly presence might not go unnoticed this time around.





	1. Part 1

Probing the minds of strangers is what I do best. Delving deep into their psyche, learning all about their past; everything they've done. All the mistakes they've made and the people they loved. It was all so fascinating to me, seeing what makes them tick. 

When you've been dead for nearly ten years and stuck in the same apartment for all that time, there's not much you can do to entertain yourself. Moving objects around and manipulating the environment around me doesn't help much. I can't even do that much. 

I can press the keys to the living room piano left behind by a previous tenant, I can open and close the curtains hanging in front of the windows, I can feel the touch of whoever may be living in the apartment at the time. I mainly do it when they're asleep, that way it's easier to look more into their past experiences. When they're mind is asleep as well as their body, I find it much less difficult to learn more about them. 

I can already get a sense for the kind of person they may be upon first walking in. I've had a few people with rather boring lives, couples who fought way too much, even a few criminals here and there. They are all interesting in one way or another, but I've found that I'm more intrigued by those who are broken. The people who haven't lived such great lives, the people who have had troubled pasts. In other words, people who remind me of me. 

I didn't exactly live the best life. I didn't have many friends growing up and I didn't have many friends transitioning into my adulthood. There were four other guys who I used to play music with, but that fell apart just as quickly as it formed. I've never really felt was true happiness was, I was always sad...so sad. I've come so very close to taking my own life on more occasions that I can count. Luckily, somebody was always there to stop me. Whether that was my mother, my grandfather, or one of my four semi close friends. They always talked me down and made sure I wouldn't do anything stupid. But then they weren't.

It's been ten years since I pulled the trigger. It was so sudden, a very in-the-moment decision. At that point, the thought hadn't crossed my mind in so long. But thoughts were racing through my head at a million miles per hour. My emotions weren't much better, and of course I didn't have the right meds to help me with my disorder. I didn't even give it a second thought. I didn't think it over, I didn't even write a note. All I did was pull the gun out of my closet, placed the barrel into my mouth, and pulled the trigger. I thought that would be it, I thought that would be the end. But as it turns out, I'm still here. Nobody knows it. My presence is never noticed, nobody can see me. But I can see them. I see everything that happens with them. I'm there when they sleep, when they cry, when they laugh. I see it all. I see how they destroy themselves one drink at a time. Or pill, or cut. 

I've seen everything. 

Within a week or so, I can usually have a person all figured out. As soon as they walk in through the door for the first time, I get a taste of what they feel. But it's when they first fall asleep they I really take action. I stand at their bedside, and I slowly place my hand on top of their head. And then suddenly, I'm seeing everything they saw. 

It's different for every person, and it's different every time I do this. Sometimes I'm there at their wedding, or a funeral, sometimes I'm at their bedside in a hospital. Sometimes I'm there when they decide to take someone's life. I find it morbidly fascinating whenever I witness the really gritty stuff. The moments in their lives that have a deep impact, the moments in their lives that would make others thing they are a bad person. 

Maybe I would have thought the same thing if I were still alive. Of course, I still do to some extent. If they had done something particularly awful to a person, a child especially, then I do everything in my power to make it clear they are not welcome. It usually takes a while for them to realize something isn't right, and they leave finally. But it always happens eventually. And then the next person comes along. And the cycle repeats itself. 

I always look forward to the next tenant. Sometimes I get impatient waiting for months on end. But this time around, the wait wasn't as excruciating. It was only about a month, less actually, before a real estate agent came walking in with a rather short girl trailing behind him, telling her all about the place and romanticizing it so she'd move in. It was a nice place, I'll admit. It had nice wooden floors, two bedrooms, a bathroom, spotless kitchen and cozy living room. And it wasn't terribly expensive either. Sometimes, when the potential tenants find out why that is, they flee. 

"A man shot himself here ten years ago," the agents would always say, and quickly move on as if they had never said anything in the first place. Most of them time, the potential tenants would be a bit creeped out. But this new girl didn't seem to mind much. In fact, it seemed she wouldn't have cared if a genocide had taken place here. She just wanted to move in somewhere fast. 

Already, I could feel her apprehension and nervousness as I examined her up and down. 

She was small, one could tell even through the long black over sized cardigan she wore. She was quite pale as well, very pale for an Asian girl. I couldn't get a good look at her eyes, but I saw her white hair, long and wavy and porcelain white. Literally. It was the exact same color as Gerard's was once upon a time. Maybe even lighter than that. 

This girl seemed to always look down, barely speaking, only doing so when it was absolutely necessary. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the real estate agent's over enthusiasm terrified her. Every time he casually put a hand on her shoulder, she would flinch. I hoped that she would decide to move in, because I was antsy and determined to find out just what made her be this way. So skittish and scared of seemingly nothing. Soft spoken, silent. Eager to be alone again, yet also craving affection. All of these things I felt already. And I related. Back when I was still alive, loneliness was practically my middle name. I wanted to badly for someone to hug me, to touch me, to love me. But I never got it. I was always left disappointed whenever someone would pull away from a hug first. I would cry myself to sleep with my arms wrapped around myself, pretending it was someone else. 

She was a bit different, however. I could tell she wanted affection, but was terrified of it at the same time. It was quite a conundrum. I stood my ground from across the room, watching her intently. I never learned what her full name was, only her last. The agent kept addressing her as 'Ms. Kirijo'. So now that's what I would call her in my mind from now on. 

They left after a few minutes after Ms. Kirijo decided she'd take the place. I was thrilled, so much so that I grinned like an idiot for the next hour all by myself. 

This should be interesting. 


	2. Part 2

It only took about 36 hours for the new tenant to move in completely. Ms. Kirijo only had a handful of boxes filled with all her stuff. Clothes, bathroom essentials, some kitchen appliances, clothes and a laptop. She didn't have very much, not even a full bed. She would sleep on a memory foam mattress cover and a couple blankets. I kind of felt bad for her, she must not have a lot of cash to spend. 

I stood a few meters away from her as she closed the front door for the last time. Her hair was a bit disheveled, large cardigan beginning to slip off of her shoulders. I could see a few old scars poke out from under the wool, and I walked closer to get a better look. 

They looked fairly old, in the shape of thin straight lines that continued on past the soft material. I reached my fingers out to graze them with all the gentleness in the world. As soon as my fingers came into contact with her skin, a very static feeling erupted on my fingertips. It was like that feeling when your arm or leg falls asleep and it's like pins and needles. It was exactly like that. Ms. Kirijo gasped lightly and smacked the spot on her arm where I had touched. 

I almost gasped too, because nobody has ever had a reaction like that to my advances. Usually they don't feel a thing. And if they do, they brush it off as just the AC. But this girl had a real reaction to me, and that intrigued me even further. I wanted to touch her again, see what else she would do. But I waited. I watched, and I waited. 

She stared at her exposed arm for a moment with narrowed eyes and a tilted head. She then slowly adjusted her cardigan so it rested comfortably over her shoulder. 

Her little trance lasted only for a few moments before she cautiously stepped further into the living room, glancing over at the piano almost longingly. For a second, I thought she would sit down and play a song. I wouldn't have minded one bit. But much to my dismay, she only disappeared into the main bedroom, taking a few of the boxes with her. 

It didn't take her that long to get everything settled in. She didn't have any furniture, no television, and very little food to put in her fridge. In fact, the only thing I saw her put in there was a case of energy drinks. I furrowed my brows in curiosity. 

Just what kind of person was Ms. Kirijo? 

\-----

**With Ms. Kirijo...**

Moving in was quite easy, easier than I thought. I really didn't have much to take with me after moving out of my mother's place. Really, the only thing I needed to survive (other than the obvious) was my laptop. That was what I took with me everywhere I went, although granted, I don't really go anywhere other than work. 

I shut the front door, exhausted despite not doing much in the past few days. 

_Get a grip, Winter..._

I mentally berated myself. I shouldn't be this tired, because I didn't do anything. I moved a couple boxes in here, yet it felt like I was carrying the weight of another person on my shoulders. I wanted to lay down and curl up into a little ball, maybe cry for a little bit and let myself fall asleep...but I couldn't. No. I wouldn't let myself, not yet. 

I leaned slightly against the door and exhaled heavily. I felt the sleeve of my cardigan start to slip off my shoulder, but I was safe in the confines of this apartment now. I didn't care anymore. I knew nobody would judge me for my many scars. 

I stood there silently for a few minutes, just breathing softly and trying to calm the churning waters of my busy mind. Gradually, the pounding of my heart slowed and I could think straight again. I got so lost in my own thoughts that I nearly flinched when I felt something along my upper arm, almost akin to the feeling of tiny little insects crawling around on your skin. Like how you feel when a part of your body falls asleep. It was almost jarring. Thinking it was a fly, or a mosquito or something, I smacked the spot on my shoulder, only to find that there was nothing there. 

_What the hell?_

I stared at it for a few moments with harrowing eyes. I must be really losing it, now. 

After a little bit, I simply shook it off and stepped further into my new home. It was eerily quiet, but the atmosphere was very calming. Although, I couldn't help but notice a certain energy here that seemed...not exactly threatening, but....curious almost? I couldn't quite describe it, but either way, it put me on edge just a little bit. But I chalked it up to just me being paranoid. That certainly wasn't something new. 

After a few hours, I could finally sit down and relax. All of my belongings had been put into their rightful place. The only sound in the apartment was my shallow breathing and the tap tap tapping of my bare foot against the wooded floor. 

What to do, what to do...

_*buzz buzz*_

I jumped out of my skin when I felt my phone vibrate in my jean pocket. I pulled it out to see a text from Okaasan--my mother. I opened up my little flip phone. 

_'you move in ok?'_

I sighed and replied with a simple  _'fine'._  

She didn't text me again afterwards. Not that I really expected her to. She and I never really had a close relationship. In fact, she didn't seem to care much that I was no longer going to be living with her. There was no heartfelt goodbye or anything like that. And I had moved very far. Well, I guess not  _that_  far. But it was far for me. I relocated all the way to New Jersey while Okaasan was still in New York. 

All in all, however, I'm glad I finally left. Being around my mom almost made me want to die. It wasn't that she was a terrible person or anything. It was that she never showed any signs that she cared. No matter what I did, she wouldn't pay any attention. I've tried desperately ever since I was a child to get her to love me, but nothing ever worked. So I decided that it was finally time to just leave, because it was no use. My mother hates me, and there's nothing I can do to change that. Being around her much longer would have only gotten worse. Besides, I'm 18 years old now. It's time I be on my own from now on...

But I didn't want to be alone. 

It was late at night now, I should be in bed. But I didn't want to go to sleep. I wanted to talk. I wanted to talk to someone, anyone. I was lonely, so lonely...but I don't have any friends. I've never really had any friends, well, except for maybe one. 

But I don't want to think about her ever again. 

I wish I was adequate enough to have friends, but nobody has ever taken an interest in me. They all thought I was a freak. And now, I do too. 

I sighed heavily again, and sat cross legged on my bed. Looking over at my pillow, I noticed my old, baby pink stuffed bunny staring up at me with its little black button eyes. 

Molly. 

Molly was my stuffed rabbit I've had ever since I was really little. She's always been my friend. She was a little battered up; stitches littered her body from all the repairs I've made to her over the years. Her fabric was a little faded, but I loved her anyway. I'd like to think that she loved me back. 

I'm so pathetic. 

I gently took her into my hands, staring into her button eyes. She had a little smile stitched into her face, a smile that would never leave. 

Squeezing her softly, I felt my eyes begin to water and eventually spill over. I couldn't help it, and I didn't understand why. But I began to cry, hugging my rabbit close to my chest. My shoulders shook and I tried desperately to make sure I didn't make too much noise. I don't know why, since nobody was here to hear me. But even so, every time a sob would escape, I felt more and more ashamed of myself. 


	3. Part 3

**A/N: Was inspired by Pity Party**

**With Frank...**

It look a long time for this girl, Winter I learned her name was, to cry herself to sleep. The entire time, I sat by her side, very lightly toying with a few strands of her pure white hair. It was really soft, and I hummed, wanting to touch her for real. But I couldn't just yet. It would keep her up, and she wouldn't fall asleep. So I waited. 

It wasn't until around three in the morning did her eyes shut for good. That pink stuffed rabbit named Molly still pressed against her chest. I found myself smiling softly down at her as her breathing evened out, the pounding of her heart no longer the only thing she could hear. I felt at peace, and I knew it was coming from her. I wondered if she could somehow sense my presence...

No. I shouldn't let myself get my hopes up like that. She might have a feeling that something else is here with her, but I doubt I'll ever get to fully communicate with her. Let alone verbally. I sighed and crossed my legs again, looking down at her from behind. I could see her bare back underneath the form fitting thin strapped tank. I let my fingers trail over her skin, letting myself trail up to the back of her head. Already, I could see flashes from her past. From when she was a little girl, to her mid teens. They only lasted for a second, and I saw a couple faces. Ones I knew she didn't want to see ever again. I felt this because she felt this.

There was the brief image of an older man who had the same Asian eyes as she did. There was also a woman who looked like she could have been her mother. And finally, a slightly younger woman with blonde hair smirking down at her. I could feel my anxiety levels rise at just that face alone, and it didn't last for long at all. That one must be a powerful memory. 

Once my hand came to rest on top of her head, a single flash played in my mind. This time, it lasted a lot longer than just a second. It played out like a film reel, and suddenly I was no longer sat on the bed. I was sat on a white tile floor in front of a coffee table.

On the other side of the coffee table was a little girl, no older than eight or nine years old. Her skin was a little darker but still had an alabaster glow to it. It was a lot more radiant, no longer did she have any dark purple bags or trembling hands. She looked a little more plump, too. Healthier, happier. Her hair was a deep auburn color, not something you see a lot. Especially in Asian children. And her eyes, they were the same color. Dark brown, but even from here, I could see the red tint in them. 

She was smiling and humming happily to herself. Twin braids were in her hair as well as two red little bow like hair clips on each side. There was a tiny little heart painted onto her right cheek in black eyeliner. I chuckled at the sight. This must be one of her best memories. 

I leaned over the coffee table a bit to see her hand skillfully drawing little cartoon characters with a glittery pink gel pen. Above one of the characters she drew, there was a cartoon bubble and inside were some words written in a language I couldn't read. It wasn't until she hummed in a thick Japanese accent the words 'Happy birthday to me~' did I realize she must be waiting for her party guests to arrive. I gushed inwardly and chuckled. I remember having a birthday party once when I was 12. The only people who came were my friends Gerard and Mikey, but I had fun anyhow. 

I sat there and I watched for what felt like hours as she drew and drew and hummed and drew some more to pass the time. 

" _Tabun karera wa ishi watashi no yona ima_." 

I didn't understand what she just said as it was in Japanese. This memory must take place in her home country. I could tell just from the style of the house. I smiled, I've never had anyone foreign to learn about. This should be really interesting! 

Eventually, she put her pen down and sipped from a soda bottle. She continued to hum happily, and wait for her guests. When she looked up and glanced at the clock, her content grin fell into a solemn frown. When she spoke next, it was in English. Her accent was still pretty thick, but I understood her. 

"Maybe they are just running late." She then nodded her head in affirmation. "Yes! That must be it!" 

My heart suddenly clenched as I realized that this memory might not turn out to be as pleasant as I first thought. I wanted to join her on the cushion she was on and engulf her in a great big hug and tell her that everything's gonna be okay, that I'd be her guest. But I can't interact with anything when viewing people's memories. I can't manipulate the objects around me. I can speak, but nobody will hear me. Because they're just memories. You can't change memories. 

Each time she looked at the clock, the sadness in her eyes would become more prominent. But she kept on hoping and making excuses to explain why nobody was here yet. But I could see her hope begin to deplete. They began to shimmer every so often as if she were about to cry. But she swallowed them back and kept waiting. 

Eventually minutes turned to hours, the sky had darkened and I wonder where her parents were. 

_*ding dong*_

Winter gasped happily and sprang up to answer the door. When she did, she was disappointed to know that whoever it was had gotten the wrong house. She politely said goodbye with a small wave, then closed the door and leaned up against it. She was scarily catatonic for a while, until her bottom lip trembled and she took in sharp little gasps. Oh no, don't cry...

She started to cry. It was quiet at first as she slid down the door to hug her knees, bunching up her little pink dress. I crawled closer to her, putting my hand on her knees. Almost as if in response to my action, her little whimpers turned into awful, heart wrenching sobs. 

" _No one likes me...!_ " she repeated over and over again. 

"That's not true," I whispered despite knowing she wouldn't hear me. "I like you." 

Of course, she didn't respond. Not that I really expected her to. 

Soon, I could feel myself tear up as well, watching her as she cried her little heart out. When she glanced back up at her decorations, I could see the black liner heart on her cheek smeared. She suddenly shot back up again and started tearing down all the decorations. She tore them all apart, stomped on them, doing anything she could to destroy them. When she was completely finished, she stuffed them all down a trashcan and turned to see a now empty, devoid looking living room. 

" _Baka...!_ " she cried out. I then watched as she trudged to what I assumed was her room. I waited five or ten minutes before I got up and walked through the door and saw she was now in a night gown and burying herself like a caterpillar with her thick blanket. She kept crying softly, berating herself and sniffling. I carefully maneuvered myself so I was sitting cross legged behind her, and reached out to touch her on the back of her head. As soon as I did, I was back in her current bed, and she was in the same position as she was in her memory. 

"Oh sweetheart..." I whispered. I began to stroke her hair, like I was trying to comfort her. For the longest time, I didn't think she could feel it. That was until she sighed in her sleep and leaned back into my touch. I paused for a moment, unsure if she would wake up or not. When she didn't, I resumed in my action, making sure to be slow and gentle to ensure she'd stay asleep.


	4. Part 4

**With Winter...**

Waking up this morning wasn't excruciating as it has been for me in the past. Normally, I wake up and I want nothing more than to hide under the covers and shield myself from the world. But this morning was different. 

There was a warm feeling surging through my head, one that soothed my demeaning and awful thoughts. It was kind of like taking a warm bath without the water. Like a heating pad being pressed to the back of my skull in particular. I found myself humming and wishing to feel like this forever. Because in this moment, I didn't want to burst into tears. I didn't want to scratch incessantly at my wrists or savagely insult every single flaw I could point out in myself. 

This right here, was what true zen felt like. I never wanted this to end;  whatever this was. 

I tiredly turned myself over on my mattress, almost like I was expecting for there to be someone laying right next to me. In a weird way, it almost felt like there was. But I was completely alone in this room. I don't know if this was just me slowly going crazy from being alone all the time or if there really was some sort of energy in this place that I couldn't comprehend quite yet...

Molly was still clutched to my chest for dear life. I smiled softly down at the stuffed rabbit. I'm sure anyone who would have seen the way I interact with this thing would think I was insane. But nobody was here, so I was free to be as insane as I wanted. 

\-----

**With Frank...**

It was around three in the afternoon when I noticed Winter getting a little fidgety. She was sat cross legged in the middle of the kitchen floor with her laptop in front of her, typing vehemently. Weird place to work if you ask me, that can't be comfortable at all. But I'm not one to judge, I've done stranger things. 

She was in a pair of pajama shorts and a long red kimono styled robe loosely hanging off her shoulders. I could see all her scars again, and this time in more detail. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn't bother readjusting her robe. This gave me a chance to get a better look at her. Not just her scars, but everything else. 

I got to see just how pasty white her complexion was, and her long slender legs (despite being quite short). Scars decorated her entire body; I saw this now that she was wearing less layers. There was one going across her throat, hundreds of them along her arms, and her back from when I could see. Almost every part of her had some sort of permanent scratch. 

These all couldn't be self inflicted, that much I was sure of. Somebody must have been really horrible to her at some point. A parent, or an ex maybe? I didn't spend too much time pondering over it, because I'd get my answer sooner or later. 

I sat down on the floor next to her, peeking over her shoulder, curious as to what she was so adamantly working on. 

She had a word document open, and I could see separated paragraphs and lines of dialogue. 

A novel. That's what she was working on. I couldn't tell exactly what it was about, but from what I read so far, it was from the point of view of a very malicious woman with ill intent. The dialogue was intense, and I figured she must be pretty far into it. The way she strung her sentences together so flawlessly has me getting lost in the pages as she worked. It was only a few pages, but she had such a way with words. She could make something terribly mundane sound like the most beautiful thing in the world. 

The kind of thing she wrote would have been my favorite thing to read when I was still a living man. I'll bet anything she's gonna be famous one day. 

I managed to pry my eyes away from the laptop screen to stare at the profile of her face. The curve of her cute little button nose, and her long luscious eyelashes...her dark brown red tinted vision pools were hypnotizing without meaning to be. I found myself admiring everything about her, even those dark sunken in purple indents under her eyes that suggested she didn't sleep as much as she should. She was flawless in a beautifully flawed way. Everything from those purple circles, to her hundreds of varied shaped scars to her messy yet still sexy bed head hair. 

I couldn't keep my hands to myself much longer. I had to do something--anything. For the first time in a long time, I wanted her to be aware of my presence. I wanted to communicate with her, I wanted to speak to her. I wanted to be closer to her...

Never before have I been so intrigued by a tenant as I am with her. She reminded me so much of myself, it was almost scary. All those scars brought me back to when I was a teenager, and I took my rage out on myself with the blade of a pencil sharpener, or when I'd bang my head against the wall until I'd knock myself out. 

Oh and let's not forget about the time Gerard's brother caught me laughing/crying hysterically while dragging a knife down my arms. He was so fucking freaked out, watching me scream while covered in my own blood. 

That was what got me sent to an institution for almost a year. 

I didn't have to think twice before I reached up again, only this time I was going for her cheek. 

My knuckles brushed along her jawline, and just like that she froze. She didn't look up from the screen, but she definitely had a reaction. Her fingers stopped, suspended right above the keyboard and her eyes were wide. It was like every single one of her cells just stopped working. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she was a sculpture. 

A perfectly crafted sculpture. 

I didn't stop when my knuckles touched her skin. I kept going very slowly, so as not to scare her. I trailed down her jaw to the side of her neck and eventually, her shoulder. She was very tense, and I was afraid she'd scream. But nothing ever came out of her mouth. I don't even think she was breathing. 

I retracted my arm, and in turn she let out a slow exhale. But I could tell she was still on edge. 

I decided after a few moments that that was enough for today. I didn't want to freak her out too much. So instead, I slowly got up and trudged to her room. Her blankets were scrunched up and unkempt. Another thing I learned was that she was a bit messy when it came to some things. She wasn't a slob, not by many things. But some tasks, she deemed more important than others. I almost chuckled at that. That was exactly how I was. 

I ended up making the bed for her, that way there was one less thing to worry about when she retired for the night. 

As I was getting finished with smoothing out her thick comforters and placing her pink rabbit on top of her pillow, I heard a soft rapping on the door. When I walked back out to see what was happening, I saw Winter still sat on the floor, but this time she was staring wide eyed at the door. It wasn't until a few seconds later did she get up and slowly tip toe over to answer. 

She peeked through the peephole and let out a shaky sigh before peaking her head through. I did the same, and saw a fairly tall woman with fluorescent pink hair and dark winged eyeliner accompanied with a slightly lighter shade of pink eye shadow. I could see Winter's arms tense just looking at her. Being so close behind her, I could feel a mixture of admiration, envy and awe running through her nerves. 

"Hi!" the woman greeted cheerfully, with a bright close eyed smile. "I'm Rena, I live right across the hall." Rena gestured to the door across from where they stood, then quickly turned to look back. "I saw you moving in yesterday and I wanted to give you some time to adjust before I came and introduced myself as your new neighbor. I'm Rena, again, haha!" she chuckled. Winter was very intimidated by her upbeat and bubbly nature already, and I placed my hand on her shoulder from behind, almost as a way to say it's all alright. She relaxed a bit and cautiously reached her hand as Rena had held her out for her to shake. 

"I-I'm W-Winter..." she said in a quiet voice. Rena smiled, her grip firm in comparison to the white haired girl. 

"You have a very lovely name!"

"Um, tha-ank you." Winter gulped. Rena let out another little chuckle. 

"Do you maybe want to go out for some coffee sometime? If you're busy at the moment, maybe tomorrow, or the next day, or...?" 

In my peripheral, Winter blinked rapidly, unsure of how to respond. She didn't want to seem rude, but she also wanted to continue working on her novel. She was so starved for some kind of friendship, however. She really did want to. But she was also petrified of making a fool of herself. All these feelings, I could feel radiating from her mind. I began softly stroking her arm, and I noticed she had pulled the robe tight around herself, clutching the collar shyly. 

"To..tomorrow works," she answered after a moment of silently pondering. Rena grinned brightly and playfully cheered. 

"Awesome! Does somewhere around 9 am work?" 

"S-Sure." 

"Great! I'll see you then." the pink haired girl gently grabbed Winter's hand again and pressed her lips to the back of it, giving a little kiss to her knuckles. Winter's cheeks went bright red. Even when Rena retreated back to her own apartment and Winter was up against the door, her face was bright red and I almost laughed myself. She didn't realize how fucking cute she was. 

She ended up calling it a night around one in the morning before closing her laptop and leaving it on the charger. She rose from her spot on the floor and went to her room, only to do a double take once she saw how neatly put together it was. 

"What the f...did I?" she mumbled to herself, scratching the back of her head. But eventually the fatigue got to her, and she ended up climbing in anyway, snuggling tightly into the comforter and holding Molly close as she always seemed to do. 

I resumed my spot right next to her with my legs crossed. I kissed her forehead when I thought she had fallen asleep, and I decided to say something, despite knowing she wouldn't hear. 

"You're so pretty," I gushed. 

"Thank you." 


	5. Part 5

**With Winter...**

Nervousness had kept me up most of the night. I did fall asleep for a few hours, but every five minutes I was reminded of how I would have to go out and talk to somebody new for the first time in years.

It's definitely not something any other person would be afraid of. But I'm not exactly that normal in the eyes of most. I've never really had a friend to call mine. The closest I've ever had to a friend was a girl I used to be with back in the day. I don't like to think about her anymore.

I was up way before nine am this morning. When I checked the time on my laptop after wiggling out of the covers, I was a bit surprised to see it was only six in the morning. I shyly bit my lip and decided to get ready right then. I didn't want to end up being late for this date thing. Not a date. But I don't know what else to call it.

I spent a lot of time brushing out the tangles in my hair, and applying concealer underneath my eyes. Choosing an outfit was fairly easy, since I don't really have that extensive of a wardrobe. It mainly consists of old ripped jeans and thin strapped tanks. Oh, and not to forget my favorite black cardigan I wear every day. That is something I can't ever leave the house without.

I considered wearing something a bit nicer today, since I was going to be hanging out with someone. But what if it looked like I over dressed? But then again, if I wear the same thing as I do all the time, what if she thinks I didn't even try? Should I put my hair up, or leave it down? Would she be able to tell I put makeup under my eyes? Oh god, maybe I should just cancel this date and stay at home. It would be so much easier than stressing myself out over this. Besides, she probably wouldn't like me anyway. Nobody ever does.

I must have been standing in front of the bathroom mirror for easily over an hour, just scrutinizing my reflection. Glaring daggers at myself as if my reflection had done something terrible. I was seriously considering the idea of lying and telling her I came down with the flu overnight. She'd by that, right?

But then there's also the problem with her living right across from me. We practically live together, avoiding her would definitely be a task.

Why can't I just be like everybody else?

My glare against myself had softened when I felt it again. That same static like sensation that I felt when I first came here, and that I felt on one half of my face while I was writing yesterday. I even felt it while I was talking with Rena. It was always on a different part of my body. First, my upper arm, then my face and then my shoulders. This time, it was more inclusive. It was all on my back, across my abdomen and on top of my head.

My breath hitched and I didn't know what to do. I don't even know what these feelings were. Was I sick? Was I just imagining it? Or...or is there an outside energy making me feel this way?

No. That's trekking into paranormal territory, and I'm not too sure how much I buy into that. It's gotta be just in my imagination. Nothing more than my subconscious trying to make up for my crippling loneliness. I did my best to shake it out of myself and went to leave the room. As I was doing so, the pins-and-needles switched onto my left hand, almost like it was trying to hold it.

_Fucking get it together, Winter. You're losing it!_

I grabbed my phone off my nightstand and decided to just suck it up. I'm tired of always chickening out at the last possible second, annoying anyone who had tried to make plans with me. My justification was that they wouldn't have liked me anyways. Isn't that how it always goes?

I pulled the door shut behind me as I exited, pulling my large cardigan tighter around my body, trying to comfort myself. I nearly screamed out loud when I turned around and saw Rena just leaving her place as well. She saw how wide my eyes went and heard the sharp gasp leaving my mouth.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to scare you." she giggled and my shoulders relaxed slightly. I shook my head and forced a sheepish smile.

"N-No, it's fine. I'm kind of e-easily startled like that." I said softly. Her warm grin sent shivers down my spine.

"I'll keep that in mind. Sorry once again," she continued. "I was just coming over there to fetch you, actually. You ready?"

I nodded.

"Awesome!" she then reached her arm out to me, and I was a bit confused. Her elbow was extended rather than her hand, and I just stared at it, puzzled. Instead of getting annoyed with my incompetence, she simple giggled again and then gently grabbed my elbow and linked it with hers. She squeezed very slightly.

A small part of my was still very anxious and admittedly, a little scared. It's been so long since I've had anybody make any advances to me like this. But at the same time, it was so refreshing. I ended up squeezing her back slightly as we walked in sync out of the building. I never wanted her to let go, and I dreaded when she would have to.

The entire time we walked, she kept talking away about the good and bad areas around New Jersey and asking me questions about myself as well. I answered in short sentences. I could barely focus, because I was busy admiring her appearance. She radiated confidence and perfection. I was a little jealous that she could make herself look so bold and not give a damn what anybody else thought. Bright pink hair and exaggerated liner. I wanted to be like her.

"You're really pretty," I blurted out of nowhere.

Immediately, my cheeks felt hot and I felt myself start to clam up. I didn't just say that, I did _not_ just say that!

"Oh thank you! You're very beautiful yourself." she chimed back. My face was a stove on the highest setting. I wasn't expecting for her to be so cool about it, let alone compliment me back. I tried saying thank you back, but it only came out as a nervous squeak.

It didn't take long for us to arrive at a fairly small coffee shop barely a block away. There weren't many people there, thankfully. And the atmosphere in this place was warm and inviting. The only other people here were all the way across the room, not paying attention to us in the slightest. For once, I didn't feel like everyone was judging me as soon as I walked in. I think I might come here more often, even by myself.

"What do you usually get?" Rena asked before walking with me up to the barista. I let out a little hum and told her I usually just get a black coffee with espresso.

"Really?" she smirked a bit. "I would've taken you more for a sweet tooth kind of girl."

Oh god, I should have ordered something else! Now she thinks I'm weird, doesn't she?

"Hardcore." she joked before turning around and ordering for both of us. While she spoke, I fished around in my jean pocket for a ten dollar bill. I was about to hand it over to the barista, but she wrapped her slender fingers around my wrist, motioning for me to keep it.

"It's on my, Sweets."

Did she call me Sweets?

I didn't argue with her. I did as she told.

Our orders were done pretty quickly, since we were pretty much the only ones here. We assumed a spot at a small round table by the window.

"Thank you f-for the coffee," I began.

"It's my pleasure." she beamed. "So where are you from?"

I clutched the cup with both my hands after making sure my sleeves wouldn't slip down. "I just moved from New York a f-few days ago." I answered. "Um, b-before that, I was raised in Nagasaki."

"Japan? Nice!"

"Wha-What about you?" I asked her. I didn't want this whole thing to be about me. She told me she grew up in Michigan before moving out of her parents and getting a place of her own. Basically, she was new to the whole living by yourself thing as well. Although she seemed to be handling it a lot better than I was. I learned that she had plenty other friends as well, and had a close relationship with her older sister.

Having a relationship like that with any member of your family must be nice. I wonder what it's like to not feel like an outcast even in your own home.

Another thing I learned was that she was quite the talker. I wasn't complaining, though. In fact, I liked that about her. I wasn't a talked, obviously. I much preferred to just listen to someone else rather than carry the conversation all by myself. Besides, I'm not that interesting anyway.

The whole time we spoke, her foot would occasionally brush up against my leg. At one point, she asked if she could feel my hair. I was a little bashful, but I nodded my head and caught myself smiling wider than usual while her fingers softly prodded a lock of hair.

"I've never seen anyone pull off white hair as well as you do," she gushed.

"W-Well, I don't think it's as good looking as your pink hair." I said back. Her shoulder shook with her little chortles. I giggled back as she kept saying how much she loved my white hair. And I was relieved to find she didn't mention anything about my eyes. Out of everything about myself, I think that was my biggest insecurity. It was the main reason I didn't have any friends in school. They all thought I was a demon. My nickname all throughout high school was _Akuma Onna no ko._

Or in English, _Demon Girl_. I guess that's also the reason I often hide behind my hair. Although, with Rena, it was a bit different. Sure, I was still nervous as hell but she didn't make me feel like every little thing I did was the epitome of stupidity.

All in all, I'm kind of glad I didn't chicken out and hide under the covers like I wanted to do.

We walked back home together, too. Her elbow was once again linked tightly with mine. We chit chatted away, and this time I talked a bit more. I left out most of the details of my life, but I told her about how I loved to write and sing and play music.

"Really? That's so cool! I sing a bit myself! Maybe one of these days we could jam together?"

"That'd be cool," I giggled. The morning came to a pleasant end when we arrived back at out apartment doors.

"I'm glad we did this." she piped up.

"I-I am, too. Thank you again, are you s-sure you don't want me t-to pay you back? It's no trouble-"

"I'm sure, Winter. Like I said, it was my pleasure. Do you think you'd want to do this again tomorrow?"

I pondered that for a brief moment, before I nodded excitedly. At first, I didn't even realize it. Wow. Guess I'm a lot lonelier than I initially thought. She grinned.

"Can't wait!" Before I could say anything, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to my right cheek. For the umpteenth time, my face flushed a vibrant red. I know it was only a kiss on the cheek, but my mind couldn't help from looking a bit too much into it. What did that mean? It couldn't have been anything more than just a friendly gesture, but part of me almost wished it had been more. Although the idea of a relationship with anybody was frightening, it was also something I wanted to experience. Romance was another thing I seemed to crave. How nice would it be to say 'I love you' and really mean it?

"I'll see you tomorrow, Sweets!"


	6. Part 6[TW]

**TW: Self harm**

**With Frank...**

She was thirteen years old this time in the next memory I saw. Her hair was a bit more grown out, still that same deep auburn from when she was a child. Skin now paler than before. Although her under eyes were still flawless, she still had this emotionally tired and distant glint. Already, I could tell this was when she was first being drained of all her color. Her wardrobe was more devoid of spectrum now. Instead of prancing around in an adorable pink dress, she was wearing just her plain school uniform. Black skirt, button up polo and black coat. All the other kids were adorned in hair clips or necklaces. She had nothing. Her gaze was aloof, eyes glazed over. Kids were giving her these awful, nasty looks and chanting words in Japanese I couldn't understand. But based off of the tone they were using, it wasn't anything nice.

She trudged on through the halls, refusing to look at anyone. Her head was hung low the entire time. Some boy had even grabbed her backpack and started pouring all of its contents out onto the floor. She didn't seem to care one bit. She didn't look behind her. She didn't change her facial expression. She didn't utter a peep.

She stomped all the way home. Her mother looked up from her place on a laptop on a kitchen table and quickly shot her a barely audible greeting. Winter didn't respond. She didn't even spare a quick second glance. Although, even if she did, her mom probably wouldn't have cared.

She went into her room, shutting the door roughly behind her and shrugging off her coat. I gasped upon seeing all the bruises lining her arms. They were dark and in the shape of large finger/hand prints. It was obvious somebody had done that to her. I wondered if it was the same person who had given her all those scars.

"No...Mmm-mmm." I mumbled silently under my breath while I watched her dig around in a box filled with pencils and shavings. She eventually pulled out a pencil sharpener, and my heart dropped. I didn't even have to keep watching in order to know what was about to happen. Because it was something I used to do all the time. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to look away. Not even when my eyes strung from holding back the tears. I watched. I watched the whole thing.

I watched her use a pair of sharp tweezers to unscrew the blade. I watched her take it out, testing the edge along the tips of her fingers before quickly pulling away. I watched a single tear fall from her eye. And then another...and another until it was a waterfall down her pale face.

"No. Don't do it..."

She did it. She positioned the blade along the inside of her elbow and with no hesitation, ripped the blade across her skin, flinching as she did so. The cut was fairly deep, and I watched as the blood bubbled up from her skin, eventually forming a straight line and then spilling over onto her blanket. I prayed that that would be the first and last time she ever did something like that. But I knew in my heart that it wouldn't be. I know how this goes. You make the first cut, and you try to stop. You tell yourself that it was a stupid idea. You call yourself an idiot for even trying it. But then you go against your better judgment. You do it again. And again, and again until it looks like somebody put your arm through a wood chipper.

By the time Winter finally put the blade down, blood had spilled all over her arm and spilling out onto her blanket. It even stained her white uniform shirt. Her hand was trembling terribly, mascara spilling down her Bambi eyes. She didn't bother taking care of her wounds. Didn't bandage them, or clean them, or anything. She just laid herself flat on the bed and let herself bleed. I felt a crippling weight on my chest and the overwhelming urge to scream.

I felt this because Winter felt this.

She stayed like that throughout the entire night. Didn't bother changing into anything comfortable either. She just didn't care anymore. For a while, I thought she would lay there forever. I probably would have.

I was speechless when I was put back into reality. Winter was still curled up in her bed, and as I kept my hand on top of her hair, I saw flashes of her cutting her skin open again, and it continuing for years and years, only stopping when she reached 18 years old.

That would mean she's only stopped very recently, because she is 18 at the moment.

"Oh, sweetheart..." I mumbled. I re-positioned myself so that I was spooning her, pulling her in closer to me. If I imagined hard enough, it felt like her actual skin I was touching, instead of this dull static. I did my best to ignore it and instead, buried my nose into the back of her neck.

"I wish I could help you." I whispered. "I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be sorry."

My breath hitched as I received another verbal response to her. Just like before.

Last time, I thought it was a fluke. I mere coincidence. Maybe she was just a sleep talker...but I couldn't deny it, now. She actually responded to me...she talked to me!

"You can...you can hear me?" I asked as calmly as possible, but every single one of my senses was amplified. I sat up slightly, leaning over her ear. She gave a sleepy yawn, eyes still shut tight. She was still fast asleep, that much I could tell. But...we were speaking.

"Of course I can, silly." her voice was almost a hum, her tone having a subtle flamboyant flare. My hand came onto her upper arm and I squeezed softly.

"Can you feel me?"

"I can feel you...you're so warm." she moaned, and then leaned back into me. I wrapped both my arms around and over her stomach, refusing to let go.

"Y-....Your name is Winter...correct?"

"Mmmhmm."

"And-And my name is Frank...I'm Frank Iero..."I told her. I could sense her smile, even from behind.

"Iero..." she paused sleepily. "I like your name. Mine's Kirijo. Hm.....they rhyme." she pointed out.

"They do." I spoke in a breathless whisper. I was so unbelievably astonished that we were actually speaking! I've never had an experience like this with any other tenant. I don't know if it was because she was different some how, or if it was because we were so similar. Either way, it was a mystery. But it didn't matter. All that mattered was that I was having a conversation for the first time in over nine years.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." I said again. I couldn't help myself, I had to remind her after the way I see her hating on herself through the mirror.

"You are, too."

I chuckled.

"Thank you." I buried myself into the back of her neck once again and sighed dreamily.


	7. Part 7

**With Winter...**

Frank Iero. That's the name I had stuck in my head for some reason. When I woke up early this morning and started getting ready for work, the name just wouldn't leave my head. I tried humming loudly to myself to get it out, but it always resurfaced. I don't know where the name came from, and I knew it would be bothering me for the rest of the day.

I got out my laptop fifteen minutes before I left for work, and absentmindedly typed the name into Google. If I were being completely honest with myself, I wasn't really expecting to get any results. I almost figured it was just something my head had conjured up, it does that sometimes. That's what comes with being a writer. But lo and behold, I did get something.

_'Man Shoots Himself Inside Apartment'_

_'Frank Iero, 35, Commits Suicide'_

"What the hell?" I furrowed my brows and reeled back from the screen. "No." I said firmly to myself, just daring to click on any of the articles. I wasn't sure I wanted to. I mean, it says it all in the articles. He killed himself. That's that. It's a terrible thing, yes. But people kill themselves all the time. Hell, I might be one of them.

But I still had a few minutes before I had to leave for work. I suppose there's no harm in doing a little bit of light reading to kill some time.

Against my better judgment I dragged the mouse up to the first article and started skimming the words. At first, I wasn't all that interested because it seemed like just another generic news story. Well, that was until I saw where he lived.

_"...was found in the bedroom with a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head.....lived in Blue Creek Apartments...."_

Blue Creek Apartments.

That's where I live.

But...it couldn't have been this exact apartment, could it?

My heart skipped a beat and I suddenly felt a rush of anxiety ambushing me. My hands shook, my breath picked up rapidly and I scooted myself away from my computer. I must have sat there, completely statuesque for a long time because when I glanced at the time next, I nearly screamed and shot out of my seat.

I would worry about this _Frank Iero_ later. Right now, I might be late for work!

\-----

My job wasn't terribly exciting by any means. I worked in a little automobile shop, with three other employees. It was a very small business, perfect for me. I didn't have to interact with many people. All I had to do was sit in an office, answer calls and any questions customers may have over the phone. It was very easy for me. They couldn't see me, and therefore couldn't judge me. Overall, I'm glad I decided to apply here. The employees mainly keep to themselves, only speaking to me when absolutely necessary, which isn't often. And my boss is pretty much the same.

He's a nice man who cares greatly for his employees, that much I always knew. He's somewhat strict but at the same time, he puts our health and well being before anything else. He's the kind of boss who will offer you a day off when he suspects you're coming down with something. He still intimidates me a little since he is super tall, but luckily I don't interact with him much throughout the day.

Just answer calls, fill out some paperwork and go home. Very easy job, and it kept my mind occupied. Most people hate going to work. They hate being confined to a tiny space for eight hours every single day. But it's almost lulling for me. The dull paperwork was a form of meditation for me, and speaking with customers over the line felt like rehearsal for me. Over the phone, I sound like a normal collected human being. I've fooled many people into thinking I'm normal that way.

Yes, it's a very mundane and boring job. Dull work. Very dull work. But I like it. It's peaceful, nothing much ever happens. I'd say I lucked out on my first job. 

A couple hours into my shift, and I felt my phone buzz in my jean pocket. I ignored it. I know I'm alone in my office, and I could answer it if I wanted. My boss wouldn't know, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't care much. But still, I have a rule for myself. Never answer your phone during work. I like to maintain some level of professionalism. Gives me the illusion of normalcy.

I ended up turning my phone on silent mode, because the constant vibrating was starting to irritate me. I managed to evade answering it for another hour and a half, but the front screen kept lighting up, and I didn't recognize the number. I haven't had a call on the work phone come in for some minutes, and I eventually caved.

I grabbed my phone off my desk and flipped it open. "Hello?" I tried sounding normal and composed, my voice a bit more confident than in real life.

"Surprise! It's me!"

My face had drained of all its color(not that it had much to begin with) when I recognized the smooth voice of my neighbor, Rena. I could just imagine her wide close eyed smile and that little wave she does whenever we greet each other. I totally forgot I gave her my number on our second rendezvous. God, I'm such an idiot!

_STUPIDSTUPIDSTUPIDSTU--_

"R-Rena! I'm so sorry, I got caught up with work and I--"

My ever present stuttering had returned now that I knew I was speaking with Rena; a girl who I've obviously met in person and who could very well be mentally chastising my every move. I almost wanted to cry, but I swallowed back the tears. This isn't anything to cry over, Winter! Stop it!

"Whoa, hey hey hey calm down it's okay!" she cooed. Shockingly enough, it actually kind of worked. I took a deep breath and felt my erratic heartbeat slowly go back into an easy rhythm. 

"I'm sorry," I said more calmly this time. "Wh-What's up?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Nothing much! Just wanted to see how you were doing, I'm spending the night with my sister otherwise I would have just knocked."

"Oh, uh, nothing much. I'm just doing dumb paperwork. I wish I could talk to you longer, but I'm afraid my boss might catch me." I said as politely as possible. I heard a little gasp on the other end and a guilty groan.

"Oh, you meant you were busy with _work_ work! I am soo sorry!"

"I-It's fine. It's not a very busy job anyway, don't worry about it!"

"Sorry, should I...Should I let you go?" Did she still want to talk to me, even after learning how much of an anti social freak I am?

"W-Well, yeah. But I-I'm always free tonight, I get off in just a few hours."

What the hell are you doing? You're gonna embarrass yourself!

"Oh! Great! Well, I'll see you tonight then, have a great rest of your day." She said cheerfully. I giggled.

"You too."

We said our goodbyes, and for the rest of the day, I was grinning like a madman. I tried to contain it, but my boss took notice fairly quickly as I was heading outside to walk back home.

"Someone's happy." he commented. I simply nodded, bowed slightly to him, and left. I heard him chuckle lowly from behind on my way out.

I live a few miles away from work, so the sky was dimming by the time I got back home. And almost as if on cue, the second I closed my door, that same name from this morning popped right back up like a daisy, and I froze, looking carefully all around the room. Why did I suddenly feel like I was being watched?

I wanted to say that my imagination was just running insanely wild, because some weird stuff has happened in the seven days that I've been here. That static feeling always shows up every single day, without fail. And that's not all. Little thing like seeing my bed being made perfectly even though I don't remember doing so myself, everything in my room and kitchen being organized neatly, all my drinks being arranged according to color and flavor. Even my clothing was being folded and placed into flawless stacks by my wall, since I don't have a dresser.

For a hot second, I thought someone had been breaking into my house. But who would commit a crime like that, only to clean everything? It just didn't make sense at all, and that name coming into my head out of nowhere...that had to have come from somewhere. I wanted to say that I've heard it in passing. I mean, obviously I have. Frank is a pretty common name. But _Iero_ is not. Never in my life have I heard that name before, and it's not something I could have come up with myself. So I don't what the hell that is all about.

Uneasiness crept up on me, and in a soft whisper, I called out the name.

"Is there a Frank, here?"

I don't know what I was expecting. I've never been a huge believer in anything magical or paranormal. I was never raised with any particular religion, I've always been an atheist. I've always looked for a logical explanation for everything. That's why science was my favorite subject in school.

I pursed my lips when I got nothing. Of course. None of that shit exists. I sighed and was about to start towards my room when a cold breeze passed behind me, almost whispering into my ear. I halted, instantly put on edge.

I wanted so badly to say that was just the air conditioner...but it wasn't even on at the moment. I always turn it off before leaving. I wanted to say it was just the wind, but all the windows were sealed shut. Please, please let there be a logical explanation for this!

_*Knock* *Knock*_

I jumped right out of my skin when I heard the knocks on my door. I knew who it was without having to look through the peephole. It was Rena.

I opened the door without another thought, and smiled shyly. I brushed all thoughts of paranormal activity out of my head and politely stepped aside to let the pink haired girl in. I closed the door behind her and went into the kitchen.

My uneasy thoughts about the paranormal were not replaced by uneasy thoughts about having a stranger inside my apartment. I've never even had a sleepover before, not even when I was a child. Nobody ever wanted to come over to my house, and I never wanted that either. At least, I told myself I didn't. So I was a little afraid she'd leave just as quickly after seeing how bare my place actually was. I don't think I'll be doing much decorating.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I offered. She shook her head.

"That's okay, but thank you."

I mentally sighed. Thank god, because all I have is water and energy drinks. Not even any real food. I don't eat much, and when I do, it's always dollar snacks from the convenience store. Come to think of it, that's probably why I get moody sometimes. But what can I say. I like to conserve cash.

I sat down on the couch across from Rena, and for a split second I was worried about having to entertain her. I mean, I don't have a television, barely any books and certainly no video games or anything. But she was quick to start an easy conversation that we both got lost in. It was probably two hours into the evening by now, and I found myself not wanting her to go.

"Hey, do you have the day off tomorrow?" she asked out of the blue. I shook my head.

"No, but I-I get off at two in the a-afternoon." I replied. Her lips pulled into a relieved smile.

"Have any plans for tomorrow night?"

I shook my head again. I was half expecting for her to invite me out for more coffee, but then I realized that most people don't drink coffee that late into the night. Unlike me, since I spend a lot of my free time writing. I'll sometimes stay up until the early hours of the morning writing and drinking a full pot of caffeine all to myself.

"Let me make you dinner tomorrow." she said bluntly, but with a gracious simper. I blinked rapidly for a moment.

Her? Make _me_ dinner?

"O-Oh, that's okay, you really don't have to--" my pathetic sheepishness was making a comeback once again. Clap clap.

"I know I don't _have_ to." she cut me off. "But I want to. If you just want to spend the night writing, that's cool too. I just figured, you're still new here and I wanna make you feel as welcome as possible."

Make me feel...welcome.

Fuck, I could feel myself tearing up and for no good reason, too. All she did was offer to make me dinner and say she wanted to make me feel welcome. It was a normal offer, things people do all the time. But even so, it _moved_ me. Maybe because affection was so foreign to me in a lot of ways. I never thought anybody would ever show me such kindness, much less a stranger.

But here we were. She was asking to make me dinner. I was such a nervous wreck but I nodded my head anyway, swallowing back the tears.

"O-Okay. I-I'd love that." I said. My face seemed to to express just how happy I was at this moment, and she saw it. She returned the expression and leaned over to playfully kiss the tip of my nose. It scrunched up in reply to her gesture. She laughed and called me adorable.


	8. Part 8

**TW: Drug use**

**With Frank...**

I remember the first time I ever felt like I mattered to somebody. And simultaneously, it was the only time that I can recall where I felt like not a total waste of space.

I had to have been maybe nineteen or twenty at the time. I had been playing guitar in a small, underground band for a little less than a year at that point. I was fairly close with all the other members, but I was smitten with the singer in particular, who was a few years older than me. He was always an interesting man in my opinion. He was sweet, down to earth, and made everyone around him feel welcome and wanted. Especially me.

My feelings for him were platonic at first. But as I slowly got to know him more, I realized what I was feeling was nothing short of romantic. I'd even go as far as to say I was totally, irrevocably in love with him.

I knew I was potentially bisexual before, but up until then I'd only ever been attracted to women. But there was something about that man that enticed me. He was a spider, and I had been caught in his web.

This man's name was Gerard.

He was about three inches taller than me, had greasy yet still beautiful black hair and a voice like none other. Not only was his singing passionate and moving, but when he spoke I felt like I was in heaven. It didn't matter where we were. We could have been stuck in a small van for three days straight with barely any food in our stomach's, but the second he opened his mouth to talk, even if he was cursing like a sailor, I would forget all about it.

I loved everything about him, even all of his imperfections. I loved him for the way his mouth would often skew to the side when he spoke, I loved him even when he got completely black out drunk on stage, I loved him even when he passed out on a sidewalk after going on a bender. I loved him for everything that he was. I loved him because he made me feel like I mattered.

Needless to say, I felt drunk out of my mind one night despite only having one beer, because out of nowhere on stage he grabbed my face and pressed a sloppy intoxicated kiss to my mouth. It only lasted for a few seconds, but in those few seconds our tongues did the fucking tango. It was wet, it was slimy, but it was intense and amorous. It was filled with such pent up emotion and amazing aggression. It was the feeling behind it that made it so good. It had me wishing he'd made it longer. But it ended as quickly as it began.

I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it after the show because not even ten minutes after our set had ended, he was out cold. And after that, I was simply too shy to even mention it.

He did it quite a few times after that during shows. And each time it happened, my heart fluttered and I wished for more. It got to a point where every single time we played, I silently hoped I would get a taste of him again.

But much to my dismay, our little 'fling' (that wasn't even a fling) never went past on stage flirting and the occasional suggestive comment during small interviews. He soon got himself a girlfriend, then years down the line, married her and even had a kid with her. A little girl.

I couldn't even be that upset over it, because he was happy and in the end, that's all that mattered. He didn't owe me anything. Yet it felt like he still gave me everything I could ever ask for. Love. Acceptance. Loyalty. And ever since then, I was under the impression that I would never be as close to anyone as I was with Gerard.

But here I am, and I feel myself getting more and more attached to this girl, Winter, every single day. Every time I touch her, or hear her humming to herself, and especially after every memory I see. I feel my bond with her thickening and my emotional connection to her overflowing like water in a bathtub.

Our conversations were short, but I savored every second of it. She never remembered them the next day, only tiny bits and pieces here and there. Like my name for example. The morning after I told her my name, she remembered it. She googled it. She found out about my suicide. And when she came back home from work, she even called out to me. I tried to make my presence known as best as I could, and I know she felt _something_. But before I was able to do anything else, there was a knock at the door. Of course, it was that Rena girl.

I had mixed feelings about her. I liked that Winter finally had a friend to call hers, and I liked that Rena seemed to be bringing her out of her tough shell after so many years of social isolation. But at the same time, I knew Rena liked her as much more than just a friend. Winter didn't realize it, but it was painfully obvious to me. The way she often kissed her cheek and nose, always wanting to hold her hand or link elbows. And inviting her over to make dinner for her? Yeah, that's a fucking date and you can't tell me otherwise.

I wanted to be happy for her, as this is probably the first relationship she's had. And she seemed happy, but a part of me was jealous because I wanted to be Rena. I wanted to hug her all the time, I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to make her smile.

But in the end, I'm no good for her. I'm dead, I can't give her anything. We'd have no future together. So things are ultimately better off this way.

\-----

Tonight's memory wasn't much better than last nights. At least, not from what I could tell so far. She was a bit older in this memory, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old. She looked a lot like how she did, now. The only visible difference to me was her hair color. It was still that same shade of red, but maybe slightly darker. I know her skin was a lot more paler than it was in her previous memory. At this point, she looked like she hadn't seen the sun in decades. I was almost worried that if she went outside, she would just burst into flames.

It seemed to me that this was her lowest point in life. By this point, she was living in America and had learned to speak pretty fluent English.

She didn't have a school uniform anymore. Instead, she was in a simple pair of black boot cut jeans and a form fitting black t-shirt. Her hair was sloppily pulled up into a messy ponytail, tears streamed from her eyes and her hands seemed like they were constantly shaking.

She wasn't in her room this time. Instead, she huddled herself in the bathtub with the lights off and the shower curtain closed. I sat right across from her, watching as she had an orange prescription bottle in her hands. There was no label on it, but I had a good idea of what it was.

It must have been hours of her just staring emotionless at this bottle, debating in her head whether or not she really wanted to take any of the contents inside. Just like with the last memory, I hoped that she would opt out of it. That she would just put the bottle down and never pick it up again. But I wasn't so naive this time around. I knew this would be just as painful to watch. Especially seeing all those old and fresh cuts all up and down her arms. I even saw some peeking out from the bottom of her jeans, and her hips.

It looked like she had lost a ton of weight since the last memory. It almost looked unhealthy. I could see her hipbone, and her cheeks were more hollowed.

How the fuck did her mother overlook something as glaringly obvious as that?

After what felt like an eternity of just staring at the bottle, she slowly removed the lid and poured a few into her hands. I kept shaking my head and telling her not to do it. I even tried to smack the pills out of her grip. But of course, nothing happened. My hand just went through her body, and no matter what I did, she still swallowed them.

I was relieved when she didn't take anymore of that. But instead of getting up from this undoubtedly uncomfortable position, she closed the bottle and leaned against the tiled walls and falling asleep inside the tub. I blinked, and again I was transferred back to the present. I was laying across from her, but this time, we were face to face. Her eyes were shut, and she looked at peace. Like the whole world was no longer resting on her shoulders. She was almost smiling in her sleep. I managed to bring a small smile to my face as I leaned closer to her face, feeling her minty breath on my skin.

I took my pointed and I dragged it lazily down her nose, and it scrunched up rather adorably. It was cute and quick, and I chuckled.

The next thing I did was a little more bold than that. And I'm not even sure if I should have done this. I mean, she couldn't really feel it could she? But even if she did, chances are she wouldn't remember. On the off chance of her remembering, she would just chalk it up to be a part of her dream. But still. In hindsight, it wasn't that grand of an idea. But I did it anyway.

I leaned in close and I brushed my lips against hers. She didn't stir at all, much to my surprise. She hummed, and seemed to move in closer. She stretched her arms and seemed to be reaching for something. Out of instinct, I grabbed her hands and wrapped them around my neck. She buried her head into my chest and sighed happily.

"Did I....did I bother you?" I whispered. She shook her head against me.

"No."

I started running my fingers slowly up and down her back. Smiling, I said "good."


	9. Part 9

**With Winter...**

Just like she said, she made me dinner.

It was the evening after she initially asked me, and I had just gotten off work. I didn't go straight home after I left, because it suddenly dawned on me that I didn't have anything nice to wear.

I'm not that stupid. I know I don't have to dress up in this big fancy cocktail dress just to have dinner with my neighbor, but I also didn't want to go over there wearing the same thing I always do. I actually wanted to make some kind of effort. So I headed to the nearest clothing shop and looked around for a bit for something that was nice, but also not over the top.

I ended up getting a silky black blouse with long sleeves and light gold buttons all up the front. The collar was a bit tight, but not to the point of being super uncomfortable, and I figured I could just wear my regular black jeans that I had at home. They could pass for being nice. They are the only pair of jeans I own that doesn't have giant holes in the knees and highs.

I made one last stop at the grocery store for some cider, since I am unfortunately still too young to purchase alcohol, and a pack of marlboro menthols. I returned home and started getting ready immediately.

You'd think with as little make up as I do wear, it wouldn't take me very long. But ironically enough, it doesn't. That's why I'm always super early when it comes to that kind of thing, because I know it takes me forever.

When I was finally finished staring at myself in the mirror and decided I didn't look that bad, I grabbed the cider from my fridge and made my way across the hall to where Rena would be. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself, before turning around and jumping out of my skin when I saw Rena coming back outside as well to fetch me.

"I'm sorry, Sweets!" she laughed while apologizing. I giggled a bit as well, clutching the glass bottle close to my bosom while slowly tip toeing over to her. "I just keep on scaring the hell out of you, baby!" she joked.

"It's f-fine! I should learn not to be so...damn jumpy!" I joked back as well, but on the inside, I was being completely serious. She might have found it cute now, but in two months when we've really gotten to know each other, she'll just think it's annoying. Nothing more than another one of my hamartias.

"Well come on it! I've got tortellini cooking on the stove."

I nodded once with a shy grin, and cautiously stepped past her as she held the door open. I was a little unsure about being in someone else's abode, especially since this is really the first time I've ever been over to a friends place.

It looked almost exactly like my apartment. Same layout and everything. But it was a lot more colorful and lively. There were band posters and paintings decorating the walls, a nice leather sofa in the living room, and vibrant purple curtains hanging over the windows. A spark of embarrassment went off in my chest. I should probably start decorating, too. It's not like I couldn't afford to. I make decent money. I'm not filthy rich by any means, but I should have enough to spice up my home a bit more.

"Y-You have a really nice place." I said. She simpered and put a hand on her shoulder. I glanced at it briefly before looking up at her dark green, almost brown eyes.

"Thanks." she replied, and then noticed the cider I had. I held it out for her to take.

"Here, I-I didn't want to show up empty handed."

"Sweet! You didn't have to do that hun'."

I scratched the back of my head and watched as she sauntered into the kitchen, grabbing two nice glasses from the cupboard and giving the tortellini another stir. I could already smell its intoxicating aroma, and it wasn't even finished yet.

I poked my head into the kitchen, not sure if I had permission to enter or not. She seemed to sense my uneasiness and ushered my in with a light tug on my wrist. She had the golden cider poured already, handing me a glass. We gave a playful cheer, clinking our glasses and sipping generously.

"Y'know, when we're finished with these," her lips pulled up into a little smirk that made my spine tingle a bit. It looked devious, but not exactly ill intended. It excited me a bit (not in a dirty way). "I've got some red wine, if you're interested."

I blinked and thought for a moment. I wasn't exactly a big drinker. I'm not a stranger to it, no. I'd be a liar if I said I hadn't gotten drunk once or twice (or three times) during high school. But it's not something I'll actively go out and buy. But if someone is offering it to me, I don't see a reason to decline. If they end up poisoning and murdering me, then that's just an added bonus.

"Why not?" I tried to replicate her mock innocent smile, but I'm sure I just looked like an idiot. If I did, she didn't say anything about it which I'm grateful for. We finished out cider in record time, eager to get to the good stuff. Once again, she poured us each a glass. I slowly brought the rim up to my lips and sipped. The taste was bittersweet, and burned ever so slightly going down my throat. But that wasn't why I liked about drinking. It was that warm sensation you get in your chest after doing so. That's what I liked most about it.

Whenever I start drinking, even if it's very little, I always find myself loosening up quite a bit. Maybe I should be an alcoholic, heh.

By the time I was halfway finished with my glass, my slight stutter had long dissipated, and I think she noticed it as well. I talked a bit louder than I normally did. In fact, my volume had reached a normal inside voice, which was kinda loud for me. I watched and chatted playfully with her while she cooked, and ever so often she would hold a fork out for me to taste the tortellini on. I had perched myself up on the counter right next to her. She beamed brightly up at me, leaning closer and closer as the minutes ticked by. We were on our third glass by now, and I was feeling particularly giddy.

"I should drink with you more often," she chortled. I scoffed and rolled my eyes before feeling her hand placing itself casually on the space where my knee met my thigh. If I hadn't just had a glass and a half, then I would have been extremely flustered. I wouldn't know what to do. But now, my chest felt warm and I felt a bit more confident.

"Why, so you can get me wasted and see me humiliate myself?" I said with a hint of flirt laced into my voice. We both knew I wasn't being serious, but she played along anyway.

"Of course not," she temporarily abandoned the spoon she used to stir the food in favor of leaning even closer to me. I was still up on the counter, and her other hand was on me, higher up on my thigh. But I didn't mind. "You just seem much more comfortable, Sweets."

I didn't say anything, and instead answered her by coiling my arms up and around her neck, intertwining my fingers together and pulling her closer. She did so, happily. Her stomach was level with my legs, one of them gently caressing up and down her side. She pressed herself in between them, and my face grew hot. But my heart wasn't pounding at loudly as it would have.

"Are you comfortable?" she whispered, taking her hand and guiding my thighs to wrap around her. I obeyed her silent command as her hands slid up to hold my waist. I nodded my head to answer her inquiry, taking slow wispy breaths.

"You're pretty," I giggled softly. She hummed, shaking her head.

"Not as pretty as you, hun'."

I was about to combat her response, tell her that wasn't true. But I never got a chance to. She silenced me with those eyes of hers, almost pinning me down with them.

Huh. I never would have taken her for the straightforward, dominant type. I wasn't sure exactly what made me think that, but something about her told me she wasn't like how she was acting right now. But I guess I was wrong. Because here I am, practically wrapping myself around her while she kept me still with those small yet firm hands. Mine on the other hand, were shaking badly. Not from apprehension or anxiousness, but from excitement. I didn't know what was going to happen next, and I wanted to so bad. I wanted to know what she would initiate. What kind of games we would play.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked, lips hovering over mine. I could tell she was barely restraining herself from doing so, and just to tease her a bit I pretended like I wasn't sure.

"Hmmmm...." I smirked and cocked my head. I think she knew I was messing with her, but she didn't act on her desires unless I gave her the go-ahead. Even if it was something as innocent as a kiss. After a few seconds of 'pondering', I finally gave her the permission she wanted.

She acted immediately, yet still somewhat cautiously. As if trying not to scare me or something. She leaned forward, hands tightening on my waist. And then it happened. Her lips were on mine, being gentle and careful. She pried mine apart, but didn't quite enter yet. But one hand did venture all the way from my waist to hold the back of my neck. Her fingers squeezed it very lightly every so often, but ever time she did, I felt myself breaking down more and more. Completely submissive to everything she did. Part of my was a little embarrassed because of how easy I was to control, but I wasn't scared this time.

I trusted her. And that's something I haven't been able to do in....well, forever. I trusted her not to hit me, or make me bleed, or demand that I get on my knees and worship her like a god, or to call me degrading names...or worse, degrade me by forcing her to address her with inherently regular nicknames, but make them seem so much dirtier and depraved than they really were.

No, she wasn't like that. She didn't make me feel small like that. She made me feel small, but in a way I loved. I know I shouldn't. I've only known her for a week, but I was so lonely and easy. Right now, I'm sure I would let this woman do whatever she wanted to me.

The kiss was innocent up until her tongue slipped bast the barrier and we could taste each other entirely. Without me even realizing it, my legs wound themselves tighter around her. She seemed to enjoy this very much. She let out a little moan, which made my cheeks burn hotter. She reached over and turned the stove off, never leaving my mouth. She then positioned my legs to hold on tighter, and for a moment, I was confused. But then she slid her hands underneath me, cupping my bum and lifting me off the counter. My heart fluttered a bit, not used to this kind of thing. But I certainly wasn't complaining.

She sat herself down on the couch, my legs still wrapped around her waist, straddling her.

"You don't mind waiting a bit longer for dinner, do ya' Sweets?"

I pulled away slightly, breathless and eyes half lidded. I shook my head.

"Not at all."


	10. Part 10

**With Frank...**

Winter never came home last night.

She left for Rena's right across the hall at around seven. It's now midnight, and she still hasn't come back. In the last few hours, my mind has been racing, conjuring up all these possibilities of what might be happening. I almost felt like I was about to have a full fledged panic attack when I put these ideas in my head.

Like: what is Rena poisoned her and locked her in the basement? She doesn't have a basement, this is an apartment building. But still. It could happen.

What if she knocked her out cold with a blunt object and tied her down so she couldn't escape?

What if Winter was no longer in one piece? What if all her body parts had been scattered all along the kitchen floor, blood smearing along the walls and counter?

Common sense told me none of this was happening. It was pretty likely that the girls either had one too many and just crashed out together, or things got a little heated and ended up in bed. And not sleeping if you know what I mean.

So, no. I don't think I had much to worry about. But this is New Jersey, and I'm certainly not a stranger to danger. Bad things happen here all the time. Rape, murder, suicide. Just because Rena is a five-foot-two female with bright pink hair doesn't automatically make her a trustworthy individual. She is just as capable of hurting someone as anybody else.

But in the end, I couldn't do anything about it. And it wasn't my business anyway. But still. I couldn't restrain myself from walking through that door (literally) and through the one across the hall. I felt weird instantaneously, because no I was no longer in my own domain. I was in a strangers cave, and it felt wrong. Undeniably so. But I just had to at least check on my little snow white. I had to be sure everything was okay.

I wandered my way down the short hallway, passing through the living room where a couple of bowls were abandoned in the sink as well as an empty wine bottle. My suspicions were on the way to being confirmed.

My eyebrows were raised when I saw the first article of clothing, a black and white striped tank laying in a heap on the wooden floors. A few feet in front of it was a small black bra. One I knew was Winter's. Then a pair of black boot cut jeans, a single shoe, another bra, and they all led to the room at the back.

It was completely silent in there. They must have been passed out by now.

Just as I had thought, I passed through the barrier separating me from them, and saw Winter's head resting along Rena's chest. Her lengthy white hair was spread messily around her face, locks of it covering over the pink haired girl's breasts. Rena had her arm wrapped around her, never allowing for her to move away. Jealousy sparked a bit inside of me, but I swallowed it back. I had to remember, I had to remind myself that things are just better like this. She's barely even aware of my existence. How could I ever hope to form an idyllic bond with her?

Still, I cautiously stepped forward and crouched at the side of the bed. I was level with the albino's peacefully sleeping face. I smelled her wine heavy breath and sighed. I hope Rena is able to make her truly happy, at least while their relationship lasts. Because I know how this works. I know that eventually they'll break up. And Winter will move on to someone knew, rinse and repeat until she finally finds someone to officially call hers. I know it will happen. She may not think it will, but she will. I know it.

I sighed again, about to get up and leave. I felt like a creep, being in here. And I wasn't a creep. But Winter's small voice invaded my ears, and she moaned tiredly. At first I couldn't make out what she was trying to say, if anything at all. But the I undoubtedly heard clear as day a few seconds later.

"Mmmm...Frankie..." she sighed in her sleep. I froze, staying in my crouching position and just waiting for her to say something else. There was a throbbing in my chest, overflowing into my head; mimicking that of a heartbeat. I was almost seeing red.

She. Said. My. Name.

"W...Win-Winter?" I breathed back. Her hand lifted a bit from off of Rena, reaching out towards something. Her fingers were outstretched and I thought she was just stretching in her sleep or something. But she was reaching out. For what? I didn't know. But I couldn't just ignore it.

I'm not sure what prompted me to do so, but I grabbed her hand and she calmed down from her restless stirring. I squeezed gently, kissing her knuckles. Her tense shoulders went limp, a small smile forming on her lips. It was barely there at all, but it was still there.

"I'm here, sweetheart...I'm here." I whispered. She squeezed me back, smile falling and eyebrows coming together in a downcast frown.

"Promise?" she breathed out. I gave a pursed lipped, sad grin.

"I promise. I'm not going anywhere."

Her stirring stopped altogether, and sleep took over. But even so, I didn't let go of her hand. Instead, I made myself a bit more comfortable, situating my slightly transparent body to lean against the bed and keep her hand encased in mine. I would occasionally press the soft, cold skin to my face. I traced little designs on it, traced the scars I could reach and every so often, I'd kiss it and remind her that I was still here, even if she didn't say anything.

About an hour passed, and something came over me. Something I hadn't felt in ten long years. Something that was completely foreign to me at this point.

My eyes began to close, and my breathing faded out. I fell asleep. But my dreams were nothing short of hellish. Because they weren't dreams.


	11. Part 11 **TW**

***MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING*: GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF RAPE IN THIS CHAPTER.**

**With Winter...**

_2 Years Ago_

_The last few months have been surreal to say the least. Everything was so perfect. In the beginning when it all started, I couldn't have asked for anything better. I thought that I would finally be happy, I thought that this little thing we had going on would be like heaven every single day._

_Oh how wrong I was._

_I want to say that I've learned my lesson, but the fact of the matter is, I haven't. I don't know if that makes me stupid, or just easy to control. But I didn't break things off with her when I know I should. I should have left after the first time she struck me. When we got into an argument, things got heated, and for days I had a giant red hand print branded on my face from how hard she hit me. I should have called it quits, I should told my mother. But she wouldn't care. She never would._

_Of course, she apologized to me the very next day. Pulled me aside after class and kissed the spot she'd smacked, telling me she didn't mean it. I believed her, that was until she did it again. The second time was when I tested her again. I accidentally set her off, and she lost her temper. She slapped me, but harder this time. My whole face was tingling, and I was anticipating another apology. But none came. She didn't even storm off like last time. She just continued to lecture me, and tell  me that if I didn't want to get hurt, then I should know when to bite my tongue._

_I stopped fighting back, I stopped arguing with her even when I knew she was wrong. I didn't dare go against anything she said. I turned  into her little lapdog, I did whatever she told me to without question because I was terrified of being hurt again. But eventually, knowing when not to speak wasn't enough. Even if I so much as looked her in the eye without permission, she'd lost it. And soon, her assaults onto me had escalated._

_No longer was it just a slap to the face here and there. No longer was it just that, and another warning about testing her. Within weeks, she started striking me with a closed fist. She began to pull my hair until I felt like I'd go bald. She would throw me down and start kicking me in the stomach, chest, head...anywhere, really. She even kicked me in the eye one time. I was sure it had burst completely inside my skull. I'm lucky it was only extremely sensitive to light for days. I'm lucky I didn't just go blind._

_By now, there was a new wound on my body ever single day. Sometimes it was self inflicted, because soon I almost became dependent on it. I can't explain it without sounding mental. But there comes a point when the torture becomes normal. Being hurt was normal for me. I didn't like it, but it had become a part of me. So if she wasn't there to deliver the blow, I would just do it myself._

_Luckily (or I guess, unluckily) I wasn't alone tonight. My mother was off at work, it was a weekend, and I didn't want to be all by myself. She knows this, and sometimes she would threaten to leave me by myself as another form of torture if I disobeyed her. But I knew she wouldn't go through with that. If she did, she wouldn't have anybody else to make cry._

_Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe she did. She could always find somebody else, somebody better. Somebody who wouldn't fuck up all the fucking time. Somebody who didn't burst into tears at everything that went wrong._

_That is perhaps what terrified me the most, being left. Who else was going to put up with me? Who else was going to love me?_

_She made sure to remind me all the time that she was all I had. That if either of us left each other, I would be alone forever. I would never find someone willing to take care of me like she did. She told me all the time that only she would date such a fuck up. Such a mistake. And I believed her. I always did._

_I was so easy to control._

_How did I ever enter a relationship with Valerie Dernbach? The blonde adversary who made me want to die, but also get down on my knees for her at the same time?  I could barely remember what tricks she pulled to make me fall in love. But whatever it was, it worked. Because I would do anything for her. I was her little slave, always on my knees and staring down at the ground as she'd instructed me to do so when she came. I wasn't allowed to stand up unless she gave me permission. I wasn't aloud to speak unless spoken to. I wasn't allowed to do anything unless she said I could. That included everything ever. Sleeping, eating, studying, moving at all. I couldn't even pick my own clothes anymore. She had me completely debouched and dominated._

_She even gave me a plain black collar(or a choker) for me to wear at all times. It was tight, tighter than I liked. But when I asked if I could loosen it, she ran her nails down my neck and hissed at me to not touch it. If I even so much as slightly adjusted it, there would be hell to pay._

_Tonight was no different. I was over at her house, my mother just thought she was a friend from school and since she was another female, she had no problem with me staying the night._

_In reality, however, Valerie was a lot older than I was. I didn't know it at first, but she was a full decade older than me. I guess enslaving much younger girls was what got her off._

_Thankfully, she seemed to be a bit more relaxed this evening. She her had arm draped casually over my shoulder, keeping me perched on her lap like 'a good little girl'. My head was resting lazily along her clavicle, her hand massaging circles into my scalp. This was one of those rare occasions where I felt at peace. Where I wasn't afraid of being shamed or degraded. No. Tonight was just like any other date between two people in a relationship. I sighed happily at the thought and let my eyes close. I popped them back open immediately, knowing I could only sleep if she said I could. I glanced up at her, expecting to see her fiery blue eyes glaring holes into me. But she simply smiled. And I smiled back. I looked back down, fumbling with my fingers. I hoped this would last forever._

_But of course, there I go jinxing myself all over again. Or more like forgot that just because she seemed calm now doesn't mean she won't lose her mind if I step out of line even just slightly._

_Without thinking, I reached up to adjust my collar, as it was starting to itch. The second I placed my hand back onto my lap, Valerie tensed under me and then grabbed a fistful of my hair from behind. I yelped slightly, staring at her with wide and shimmering eyes. My stomach dropped, and I knew what was to come next. Or at least an idea. She was unpredictable, each night of abuse was always somehow different._

_"What did I say about that, you little cunt. Huh?" she growled. Instead of yelling at me, like she did a lot, she kept her voice low and menacing. That's what scared me the most. I gulped, my head being tilted way back against my will._

_"I-I'm sorry!" I cried, my hands starting to tremble with fear. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" my voice was shrill, and I shut my eyes tightly to try and hold back the tears but it didn't work. They overflowed, and quick, too. She scoffed, her hold on my hair only getting more painful._

_"Already crying like the little, pathetic child you are...how surprising." she said with a bitter sarcastic twain. "I'll give you a better reason to cry, how about that?"_

_"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Valerie, please-"_

_"Uh uh uh, we both know that's not my name when we're alone."_

_I whimpered and looked at her again, tears blurring my vision. My lip quivered, and I sobbed. "P-Please don't make me! " I begged. She shook her head, her grip on my hair getting tighter. I cried out loudly, her other hand venturing down past the waistband of my skirt. I tensed dramatically and tried moving away, but she wasn't having it._

_"Say it..." she grumbled. I shook my head, closing my mouth tightly. "I SAID SAY IT!!"_

_"I'M SORRY, DADDY!" I wailed, and sobbed hysterically. She smirked and enjoyed watching me cry. All the while, her hand was still underneath my skirt. But her grip on my hair was finally released and I could hold my neck up straight again. But I didn't have much time to appreciate it, when she suddenly grabbed a hold of my collar and yanked it right off of me. For a brief second, I was stupid enough to think she'd take it easy on me. But I was proven otherwise when the collar was replaced with her hand._

_I gasped in shock and tried shaking myself away from her, but her grip was like iron. She was so much taller and so much stronger than me. I could barely breath already. I scratched and shoved her, trying to wiggle off her lap. I managed to free myself, falling right onto my back. I took a deep breath and scampered away. She'd NEVER done anything like that before! Never, not once had she restricted my breathing!_

_My heart was pounding uncontrollably. I tried getting up as fast as I could, but she was already hovering over me, keeping me in place by pulling me into her by my thigh. I kicked and screamed and spat at her face, but this only pissed her off even more. She stood up, and I tried getting away once again. But her hand was back in my hair, forcing me onto my feet. I thought she'd drag me by my hair, until she let go, bent down and lifted me over her shoulder without warning. I yelled and pounded on her back, knowing full well that this would only make my punishment worse. But I struggled in her grasp anyway, until she reached her bedroom, slamming the door behind her, making sure to lock it as well. She threw me unceremoniously onto the bed and I scooted away._

_"DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T TOUCH ME!!" I screeched. She scowled dangerously at me, disappearing off into her closer. Probably to retrieve one of her many whips, or floggers, or canes. She was already out and ready to hurt me before I had a chance to unlock the door and flee. I hadn't even gotten to touch the doorknob before she lifted me back up and threw me down, turning me onto my stomach while I was bent over and cuffing my wrists together._

_"Tch! You talk too much, bitch!" she spat down at me, before turning me over onto my back and forcing a ball gag into my mouth. She tied it skillfully around my head, and my screams were now muffled. I could only get out a jumbled mess of incoherent sentences and strung together words, begging for her to not hurt me, to let me go! Apologizing immensely..._

_"You still haven't learned your place yet, have you baby?" She said, biting my ear. I winced and struggled again, but was met with a bone shattering smack to the side of my face and I sobbed through the gag while she pressed herself in between my thighs. "You've crossed me far too many times now, baby doll. It's time I really show you who's in charge!"_

_I let out a sound akin to a whimper mixed with a gasp when she held something black and large in front of my face. She dangled it teasingly in front of me, and I started to sob even harder._

_I shook my head incessantly, begging her not to do it! I didn't want that thing inside of me! I knew it would hurt, it looked gigantic! That thing would surely split me in half!_

_"Awww, is baby girl scared?" she said in a mock sweet voice. She stroked my cheek almost lovingly and cooed at me, telling me this was what I deserved. That I would learn to enjoy it. I took to kicking her again, but she forced me back onto my stomach and from the position I was in, I was rendered useless to do anything. I heard fumbling from behind and finally, a satisfied "There we go!" and I knew I was doomed. My heart dropped and I cried violently, trying to beg her not to do what she was about to do! But she kept shushing me, telling me I deserved this._

_I really lost it when she reached under my skirt and pulled my underwear down, leaving me bare and vulnerable to her. Her hands gently ran down my spine, and I shook with fear, just anticipating for the pain to begin!_

_I would much prefer to be hit, or choked, or spanked as opposed to what was about to happen._

_"Maybe this will teach you...have you moaning like a bitch in heat!"_

_The next thing I knew, I could feel it pressing into me, and I sobbed and wailed even louder! She didn't take it slow, she didn't even warm me up beforehand at least! She just shoved it right into me, and just like that I was in the most pain imaginable! I didn't enjoy it one bit, and she didn't give me a moment to recover or adjust to how fucking....massive it was! She just started slamming and drilling into me relentlessly, smashing into my cervix and abusing my walls!_

_I screamed at her to stop through the ball gag, I tried prying my wrists free from the cuffs but that obviously didn't work. I tried kicking my legs even more, but soon I found that I could no longer do so._

_She used one hand to tug harshly at my hair, forcing my head back. She used the other one to wrap around my neck and cut off my breathing supply. Now, everything she did down there was amplified times ten. It wasn't long until I could feel that familiar climax coming along, but I didn't want it! I couldn't control it! It hurt so bad, but it was still happening and I begged for it not to! I didn't want to cum, not like this! I didn't want this!_

_It happened anyway. It was so jarring and overwhelming, and she fucked me through it and I bawled the entire time. Over stimulation was soon there, and my extreme sensitivity made it all the more painful. She knew this, and she refused to stop. The hand she used to choke me with slapped me every few seconds, whether it was on my back, my ass or my thigh._

_She kept this up for hours, literally. She never slowed down, and I had a strong feeling she was getting off to my pain. Actually, scratch that. I KNEW she was. Her pornographic moans above me proved it. I, on the other hand, was screaming and wailing continuously, begging for this to end as soon as possible!_

_It didn't. Not for at least two hours. If this were any other scenario, I'd be impressed that her stamina could last that. Especially since it was so hard and fast and rough....but I fucking hated it. I hated every god damn second of this endless torment! Cumming over and over again against my will, by her doing._

_By the time my 'punishment' had ended, my throat hurt like someone had forced a hot branding rod down it. It's probably something she would do._

_There were new wounds all over my body, and my womb felt so abused...I couldn't even move my legs without causing excruciating pain, my lower abdomen ached badly. I felt so fucking degraded!_

_I didn't have the energy to move at all. She had to move me further onto the bed, and I didn't fight it. I couldn't. I was physically incapable. Instead, I curled up into a fetal position after being freed of the gag and the cuffs. I faced the left side of the mattress and waited for whatever Valerie decided she wanted to do. But minutes passed, and I heard nothing from her. In fact, when I mustered the strength to glance around the room, I found that she was no longer here._

_But someone else was._

_With stinging, tear covered eyes, I looked upon a man who crouched by the bed in front of me. He looked like he had been crying for hours._

_He had a much kinder face than Valerie. Soft, light brown eyes and grown out dark hair. He had a slight stubble, a five o'clock shadow, and poking out from his black sweater was a whole mirage of different tattoos. I made out what looked to be a few X's and a scorpion along the side of his neck. I sniffled and weakly reached my hand out for him. I don't know why, because I didn't even really know him, did I?_

_But he didn't feel like a total stranger. And I couldn't understand how or why the name just came to me like that. But it did._

_"Hmmm...Frankie..." I whimpered. He reached out and took my hand in his, clutching tightly; lovingly._

_"W...Win-Winter?" he said in disbelief. He squeezed my hand again, more tears falling down my face. He never let go of me, even as he settled into a sitting position, leaning his head back against the bed. I felt him pressing kisses to my knuckles, tracing patterns into my skin and affectionately pressing it against his cheek. His touch alone brought along great relief._

_"I'm here, Sweetheart...I'm here."_

_"Promise?" I whispered, desperate not to be without him for some reason._

_I promise. I'm not going anywhere." he said, firmly. I sniffled again, and managed to smile through the tears._


	12. Part 12 [TW]

**Trigger Warning: Mentions of rape**

**With Frank...**

Seeing tonight's memory left me traumatized to the point of immobility. I couldn't think, I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. I couldn't blink. My eyes were stuck wide open, tears spilling over the edges. I felt cold all over, but my grip on Winter's hand never faltered. 

I knew she probably went through some shit when she was younger, but I never anticipated for it to be that fucking heavy. When I first saw her on that older woman's laugh, I was stupid enough to think for a moment that it was a pleasant memory. But the second that woman pulled on her hair like that, I knew I was in for one hell of a ride. 

However, nothing could have prepared me for something so utterly fucked. 

I didn't think it'd get much worse than the hitting or the name calling. But it did. My heart dropped the second she emerged from the closet, carrying with her a pair of handcuffs, a red ball gag, and a strap on that didn't even looked like it could fit inside somebody as small as Winter. I gulped nervously, not wanting to watch what would happen next. But I couldn't rip my eyes away for the life of me. 

I tried covering my face with my hands, but then I heard Winter's awful, terrified, shrill cries and I couldn't help myself. I peeked through the slits of my fingers and started crying on the spot. Her face was being smothered into the mattress at some points, making it harder to breath. And when that wretched, despicable woman started talking down to her, I felt sick to my stomach. 

I thought I'd be relieved when it was all over. But the truth was, I felt even worse than before. Because somehow, I felt like I could have prevented this from happening. Rationality told me I couldn't. I can't manipulate people's memories no matter what I do or how hard I try. But it still killed me, seeing that poor girl laying there curled into a fetal position, helplessly crying. 

Nobody deserves to feel this kind of pain. 

\-----

Winter came back very briefly from Rena's house to get ready before heading off to work. 

When she came back, something about her was just off. I couldn't exactly say what, but something told me that I should keep a closer eye on her. Closer than usual. 

She came home and absentmindedly shut the door, dropping her keys and cardigan carelessly to the ground before stumbling into her bedroom. I followed her in, and caught a whiff of her scent. I did a double take and almost reeled back. She smelled very strongly of tequila, or whiskey, or scotch, or any other hard liquor I could think of. I wasn't much of a drinker, especially once I got to be in my thirties. So I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was she'd taken, but whatever it was, I knew it was strong. 

"Sweetheart," I sighed, though I knew she couldn't hear me. She was drunk, that's why she was stumbling so much and tripping over practically nothing. I put a hand on her shoulder, hoping that would at least get her attention. She inhaled sharply and tilted her head back, relaxing into my touch. 

Since I couldn't pick her up or gently nudge her towards the bed (though I did try), I simply let her do her thing for a while. Which was aimlessly rummaging through the boxes in her room she neglected to unpack. While her back was turned to me, I started pulling back the covers to make it easier for her to settle in. 

I even placed Molly, her rabbit, onto her pillow. I then turned back to Winter to see she her lips pursed angrily and her hands starting to shake. What could she possibly be looking for? 

It must be the alcohol messing with her mind. How did she even get a hold of such a thing? She's still not old enough to drink, being only 18 years old. And as far as I knew, she didn't have a fake ID. 

If I were able to speak to her right now, I'd be chastising the life out of her for doing something so potentially dangerous! She's small, really small. I don't want to make her out to be nothing more than this helpless damsel in distress, but I can't help but think that if someone were to take advantage of her, she wouldn't have much to defend herself with. I hate to use such words on her, but she really was scrawny, petite, and malnourished. She was a very beautiful girl, and I could just stare at her for hours without getting bored. But I can't deny the truth. 

God. I feel like such a father right now. 

"How long are you gonna keep doing this? What are you even looking for?" I groaned when I saw she was still scourging and digging through those boxes. I didn't really expect a reply from her, since once again, she can't hear me. Although, in a way, it did feel like she heard me. But that's impossible. 

After what felt like an eternity, I heard something go dropping to the ground and a little gasp escape her lips. I turned back around and saw Winter in a crouching position, staring at a bottle filled with rectangular pills. My face fell as soon as I saw them. I tried going for them, trying to move them out of the way before she got to them. But she beat me to them. She snatched them up from the ground and drunkenly forced the lid open. 

And here I was, thinking this little addiction of hers was a past thing. 

Even in her wasted state, she popped the bottle open and began downing the pills like they were water in the middle of a hot desert. I bound forward and with the swift swipe of the hand, I knocked the thing right out of her grip. Pills went flying everywhere, and she gasped with her mouth closed. She took a small gulp and backed away. My heart dropped when I realized I might have been too late. 

"Who...." she started, eyes focused on the ground and lips parted ever so slightly. I heaved my chest up and down, expecting for her to realize that she wasn't alone. But just as I thought something like that would happen, she closed her mouth again and started cracking up. 

"Ha! I'm such a-such a damn clutz!" she cackled, then bent down to start gathering all the pills from the ground. She didn't give me a chance to knock them out of her grip again, because she placed them in her mouth the second she touched them. I started kicking the rest of the pills out of the way so she couldn't get to them. But by now, I knew it was probably far too late. She'd taken at least six or seven of the pills.


End file.
